Pink body. Tenebrous green. Letters.
Moss from armpits, knee bits, neck cyst, under-breast, ear canals.
I wear my condition like a light jacket on a hot day,
aware the temperature might dip any second as the entity speaks.
Full, strawberry moon, 11th June. Truth, sweetness, energy of coming to.
They are for your tongue, the fruits. Red cabbage on the stove simmers. Seven days in, the form wishes to dive out of the pot and close the divide. I see the name of my hometown in a presentation. A muscle sneaks forward in my mouth, supressing exclamation. A fly frets somewhere behind my head, asks me to reluctantly turn. You should never meet the eyes of the thing masquerading to be a familiar demon.
Last quarter, 18th June. Past. A natural moment, a break in potency. I made a mistake in rinsing the purple with detergent. As a result, saturation succumbs to false scent, pan rust, fade.
Litha, 21st June. Light, abundance, gratitude. Look, all you have been waiting for.
I spread my palms with honey and face the sun. I move to catch winged species and come back with a handful of ants, all ready to do a daily card pull. The last time I did so (Beltane), the cards told me to use my intuition, to figure it out myself. In deference, I took offence and haven’t consulted them since.
You caught me here once, wrist deep in salutations, knitting needles in the crook of my arms, yarn strung between my teeth.
The body that sits still for so long, an amalgamation of mosses grow.
Yarrow, Achillea Millefolium. Folkloric, flower and leaf, a reduction of heavy bleeding. For bloat: Chamomile, Fennel, Mugwort, Probiotics. Matricaria Chamomilla, Foeniculum Vulgare, Artemisia Vulgaris. Anaemia: Nettle, Dandelion, Vitamin C. Urtica Dioica, Taraxacum Officinale. Joint pain: Nettle, Omega 3. Urtica Dioica. No cure. Hormones. Synthetic Progesterone. Management techniques, lifestyle changes.
Girlhood, dysfunction, berries left too long at the back of the fridge.
The thing that grows and grows and grows until taking over.
Own origins lost. Those that could have been asked, gone too
long to answer. Finding different ways to bring griefs back as apparitions. I use
the knitting needles left to me by my grandmother in a wooden
chest my grandfather built and varnished. I knit their presences into the room.
I pull grand ideas into a dome.
The terrarium condensates, breath fogs until I drop the cards,
tether points strewn across the veneer floor.
They ask me to stop standing in the crate.
A lack of focus for a moment loses space on the needle. A whisper in the back brain murmurs, no, you were right, do that again. Becomes ravelled and unravelled, closer to sponge green, organic form.
I count as my hand does the motions, looping over and dropping, looping and dropping, looping and dropping. Fuzz, gradient, planted flag, pink moon.
Taken into orbit, led by the bottom lip.
If our brains are rotting, they wish to be seeping into the earth, nosebleeds running chlorophyll green. Desire for sensory moments curling; fingers smoothing through grass, tinged off-season at the edges. The inside joke is… we’re all books on a table.
Depends on where the tissue grows.
An ignored twelve-month review cycle. Tiny ecologies. A small inside. Your chest thuds fists against. Something desires to get out.
Swallowed whole, throat leaves, ancient practices with modern medicine. Cinderblock rows of prescriptions contrast tinctures, glycerine, dry herbs and tea blends. Apothecaries for reducing mass cell deterioration.
California Poppy, Eschscholzia Californica. Flowerhead and leaves, reduces anxiety and long-term stress, analgesic, adrenal tonic, works well in conjecture with Hawthorne for insomnia formulas. Chasteberry, Vitex Agnus-Castus. Balance, neuroendocrine pathways, reduction of infertility and fibroids. Asparagus, Asparagus Officinalis. Warming, reduction of oxidative stress, immunity. Five-Flavour Berry, Schisandra Chinensis.
The body gives me small predictions. Next week it will rain. Tomorrow, you will feel this in your lower intestine. Root to be taken as tea or tincture. Timing is everything. They got on the boat, the cards spent their life in the attic, unfinished.
Each sprig is plucked, held to lips, pulled as a loose hair from a rainforest. Come, here. One strand climbs higher than the rest. Here, come.
They’ll find me in two thousand years, beneath the ice, preserved just so with the mosses. I’ll be spiralled in on myself, hibernating despite the temperature.
25th June, the new moon finds us. Sea body, ice body. Slipped silk. Submerging, a something to wade into. Light jacket season. We plant our seeds, separated by only a week.
Roots: Dandelion, Burdock, Turmeric. Taraxacum Officinale, Arctium Lappa, Curcuma Longa. Milk Thistle seed, Silybum Marianum. A portion of issue rests within the gut, another in the liver, pulled and cleared.
